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“No.” He rolled his eyes. “Good night, Hayley. Be ready for work at seven-thirty if you want a ride.”
“Seven thirty?”
“I didn’t stutter.” He started to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Can we talk about that email you sent me?”
“I never sent you an email.”
“I didn’t delete it.”
“I wish you would’ve.”
Silence.
“What about it, Hayley?”
“Well, I honestly still don’t remember much of that night.” I couldn’t help but inhale the sexy scent of his cologne as he stepped closer. “So, I hope it won’t make this temporary living situation awkward.”
“I wouldn’t pick the word awkward to describe this situation at all,” he said, his voice low. “But seeing as though I’ve forgotten most of whatever the hell happened that night, there’s no need to ever bring it up again.”
“You thought I was a good kisser when I was on top of you, though?”
He didn’t answer that. He stared at me as if he was torn between fucking me on the spot and walking away.
“Good night, Hayley.” He left the room.
